


Big Guy, Huh?

by noire_griot (great_neckpectations)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Kink, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 14:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/great_neckpectations/pseuds/noire_griot
Summary: You meet the potty mouth Boston boy from Tinder...and find out if he's about all the dirty things he's told you over the phone.
Relationships: big guy huh chris x black reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains: Dubious consent, rough sex, just nastiness, dirty talk

Cevans is the username of the self-proclaimed “potty mouth Boston boy” you meet on Tinder. You think he’s hot and charms you into giving you his number after a day of back and forth messaging on the app. Texting is going well. You find out his name is Chris. You two talk about sports, family, the whole works. His nickname for you is “cupcake” because you’re small and seem so sweet. However, things start getting a little heated in the coming weeks. You soon find out the white boy is a packing a monster and to be honest you’re intimidated. Its girthy, uncut, and blushed a healthy pink. At looks like a healthy 10 incher. His balls match and you imagine the explosive loads he could release. He captions it with: “That enough for you, my little cupcake?” 

Not only is he well endowed, he’s a dirty mother fucker. He likes voyeurism, exhibitionism, degradation, and most of all dirty talk. He’s a real asshole when he’s worked up and wants to get his rocks off. He is slow to reveal just how depraved he is. It starts off with comments about how beautiful your tits are in your tank top. How he can’t wait to bend you over the hood of his car (cah in his thick Boston accent). It seems like standard horny dude shit until you get the late night phone calls. You’d wake up at 2am to him wasted and on the other side of the line, breathing heavy. Just his silence until you hear the grunts and slapping of skin as he jerked his dick. Most women would call it quits and block the pervert, but no, not you. It makes you feel sleazy in the best way. 

Nudes also progress. It isn’t enough to send pictures of you two’s genitals or small clips of your masturbating. He wants you to know just how much he wanted you. He prints off your pictures from your facebook (he somehow figures out your full name and found your profile) and tells you how pretty you’d look covered in his cum. One night you receive the notification that you got a multimedia text. You open it to find him cumming on a picture of you on vacation that was your current profile picture. The caption reads: Can’t wait to do this in person. You think there is something wrong with you. You get yourself off from the clip and send him a pic of how soaked your fingers are from his little display of affection. 

You two schedule a weekend together. You take the 4 hour greyhound trip from Albany to Boston to meet him. He picks you up from the station. You wear a cute little navy skater dress you picked up from forever 21 +. It has little white flowers on it. You remember he likes blue. You wear clear jellies you got from ASOS. You might have went overboard with this little grown up Lolita look you put together. Your straighten hair is topped with a simple white plastic headband. Your pearl earrings and necklace top off your brown, cherub face. You look as sweet as your nickname and maybe your necklace was your way to suggest later activities. He’s even more informal in his outfit. He sports some Levis with brown boots, a Red Sox shirt with a matching cap, worn backwards. His beard is scruffy. The outfit is finished with a St. Catherine necklace around his neck. He’s not religious, but he wears it because he’s a good Boston boy who loves his “Ma”. The hug is drawn out and he rubs your back like he missed you even though you’ve never met. He smells like old spice and some type of hair gel. He gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek and says “my cupcake”. You muster up a small “hey”, with a shy smile. 

The ride back to his apartment is quiet outside of friendly conversation about the trip and updates on life. He places one hand on your thigh and just caresses it with one hand on the steering wheel. He looks over gives you a little smirk. You’re nervous now since he hasn’t brought up all the disgusting shit he says to you via text or on the phone. He seems like a pretty normal guy from the outside. Once you arrive to his apartment, he takes your bag for you and you make your way to the 4th floor. It’s pretty plain. Definitely a bachelor pad. A fridge with half a six pack, left over Chinese food, half gallon milk, and some cheerios on top of the appliance. There’s a poster of Tom Brady framed over his tv. His couch is comfy when you sit down, worn from game nights and him being a couch potato. 

He asks if you want something to drink and apologizes for the lack of options. You take water. Suddenly your throat is dry. You sit like a prim and proper lady, legs closed and hands clasped over your thigh, with your legs slanted to the side. You don’t want him to think you’re that easy, even if its true. He plops down next to you with a Sam Adams in hand. He turns on the tv and you two stare at the screen, not taking in the replay of last night’s Red Sox vs. Tigers game. Silence again. However, this time you both can hear your heartbeat over the now incoherent noise of the game. This prompts him to squeeze your thigh once more, trying to relax you. A million things run through your mind right now. You’ve traveled all this way for a weekend with a stranger. Only one friend knows you’re here. You are too ashamed to tell other people you were meeting up with some white dude in another state. Is this the point of no return? Did your horniness get you in more trouble than you thought you could handle? Surely the neighbors can hear if bad shit went down, right? Chris shakes you from your thoughts and he asks, “penny for your thoughts?” You answer that you need to text your friend to tell her you made it safely like you said you would and do just that. He nods and smiles. 

He then finishes his beer and gets up from the couch and reaches for your weekend bag. He tells you he wants to show you where you’ll be sleeping for the weekend. You look and notice that the bulge in his pants has gotten more noticeable. If you are gonna call it quits, now is the time. However, your pussy clenches around nothing and you swallow hard as you follow him to his bedroom. His bedroom, still plain. Standard with a queen size bed, a dresser, sports posters and family pics decorate the white walls. He is such a fucking bro, it makes you chuckle under your breath and a little more relax that his place isn’t riddled with whips and chains. Maybe he is all talk and just has some fantasies he wanted to get out only via the phone. 

“This is it. Hope I’m not disappointing you cupcake”, he jokes. 

You wave him off and thank him for putting you up for the weekend. He turns to you, giving you that look you seen a few times from men you’ve hooked up with. You decide to retreat to you usual routine of asking where the bathroom was and making sure you freshen up from your long bus ride. He tells you first door to your right when you leave his room.  
When you pee, you notice just how wet you were from just the fucking tension of traveling from the bus stop to his apartment and your short time on the couch. This is a good sign. He turns you on still and maybe you don’t need to figure out how to kick him in the groin. 

When you return, he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, boots and baseball cap off. His hair is dirty blond and messy. He’s fiddling with his phone. He looks up as you walk towards him and join him on the mattress and do a nervous rock. He places his phone on his side table wraps his arm around your waist. This is it.  
He starts with small kisses on your jawline and cheek. You can feel him smile as he takes in your scent. You decided to wear some fruity body spray from Bath and Body Works. “Cupcake you smell good”. You turn to face him and he gives you the softest kiss on your full lips. His beard is scratchy against your face. The kiss deepens and he slips tongue and he places his hand at the back of your head. Things pick up, when he slips his hands between your thighs and they easily part and you give him no resistance. As his fingers trail up your thighs, you let out a breathy moan into his mouth. You can taste the beer on his breath. The makeout session, is slow and sensual. Almost the opposite of what you think he would deliver. No rushing to get to penetration. He still hasn’t said anything dirty. You decide that he’s a sweet, normal dude, not some weird stalker who wants to make you his sex slave or some weird True Crime shit. 

His fingers reach to your clothed mound, already soaked through because the kissing has you revved up and ready to go. Now its his time to moan into your mouth when he discovers your juicy pussy. 

“Damn, cupcake. You’re soaked already before I even eat that sweet pussy of yours”. 

He says the statement with such conviction as if he knows exactly how you taste and it sends a shiver up your spine. He directs you to lay down on his bed and crawls to hover over you. He plants kisses down your neck and begins to unbutton your dress. He suckles and massages your mounds, causing you wiggle underneath him as you get more heated. He frees your hard brown buds from your bra, which he disregards on the other side of the room. He flicks his tongue over your nipple while staring intently, grazing his teeth against them and treating them both with the same amount of attention and care. As he moves down, he kisses down your belly, making sure to take a handful of your chub in his immense hands causing you to giggle and get a little shy at his action. He still looks at you with sweet eyes. He was totally a nice guy. Your worries melt away. 

He makes quick work of your cotton panties and just stares at your glistening cunt before running two of fingers against your slit. You buck your hips against his touch for more pressure. He smirks. He seems to know he’s gonna change your life with his head game and boy does he. Once his tongue comes in contact with your pussy, you’re a moaning mess. His lips suckle your clit with the right amount of pressure that you can feel your walls contract, wanting to come right then and there. He uses those same fingers to pull your folds back to get more access to your pink pistol. “Look at this gorgeous big clit”, he says before slowly circling his tongue around it. “Shit” is all you can muster up in a coquettish tone. “That’s it baby, come in my mouth”. You can feel a single stream of warm liquid escape you and your body jerks as he laps it up like its his last bit of source of hydration, obscene slurping noises and all. 

As you lay panting and sweaty, you don’t notice him getting off the bed to take off his jeans and shirt. You look over to your left and see his fuzzy chest, six pack, and large biceps. He’s hotter in person. “Damn”, you whisper as your eyes wonder to his hard on in his boxer briefs. He laughs at you staring at his large package. You’re not entirely sure if his pics did him justice. The shitty quality of his videos and angles did not prepare you once he pulls down his last piece of clothing. Your eyes widen, and breath increases at the shear size of it. Gone is the sweet bubblegum pink dick and now it is red hot, dripping with precum. It seems angry and impatient at the drawn out sweet prior activities. Your eyes catch his and they seem to change. No longer the pretty blue that reminds you of the Hudson during the day. They are darker. His jaw clenches like he is controlling himself. And you feel something stir in your tummy like you are about to be fucked to pieces and put back together into a whole new slut. 

He just laughs at your surprised expression and replies “big guy, huh?”

His accent is heavier and voice raspier and deeper… like he sounds in his phone calls and videos. “Put it in your mouth, cupcake”. Saliva pools in your mouth. You are sure that your horniness is bigger than your mouth and pussy, but damnit you are not one to back down once pretty dick is presented to you. You shift to a kneeling position on the floor. As you slide his shaft in your mouth, he looks at you all sinister like. Like he knows something you don’t Again, your stomach stirs. You wave it off and take his shaft in your hand as you suck on his tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum. 

“There you go, slut. Take more in your mouth”, he encourages you. 

The new nickname causes you squeeze your thighs together. His hand finds its way to the back of your head and shoves more of his cock in your mouth, hitting your tonsils. You gag and try to pull back for air, but his hands hold your head steady on him. You quickly begin to breath out your nose, trying not to panic, as you again try to pull back to no avail. 

“Aww c’mon, that’s all you can take down that pretty mouth of yours? open up”. 

You try to adjust to accommodate his length to your throat. As his tip pushes pass your tonsils, you feel like you’re gonna throw up. “Relax cupcake” is all he offers as he begins to fuck your throat. You put your hand on his thigh, trying to pull back feeling like you won’t be able to take more of him or his motions of pushing against and past the soft tissue in your mouth. Little “gyuk gyuk” sounds fill the room. He seems to love it and he hardens in your mouth. A single tear rolls down your cheek. You want him to stop, so you can stop the oncoming soreness you will surely experience after he removes himself. He looks at you with almost proud eyes. Not pride in you, but pride in his ability to have you blink tears from your now pink, swollen eyes.

“Aww you can’t fit in all in your mouth, huh? Tsk tsk I’m a little disappointed in you, cupcake”. 

You start to feel shame in your chest. Shame at you sneaking off for the weekend to come to a strange man’s apartment. Shame at being on your knees, aching on his hardwood floor, sobbing with his dick in your mouth. But most of all, you feel shame because you are disappointing this man sexually and it makes you feel small. He lightly slaps your face, directing you to open your mouth and relax your throat from him. At this point you manage to remove his dick from your mouth and gladly suck up the warm, humid air in the room you’ve been denied. He lets out a grunt of disapproval at your breathing. You look at him whimpering and still filled with biting shame that you can’t take his whole cock in your mouth. He still seems pleased that you are falling short and he gets to chide you for it. It makes his massive dick twitch with delight. 

“That’s enough of a break, bring that mouth back here. You won’t get better if you don’t practice”, he says as if this is the first of many sessions you will be subject to during this weekend.

Now your skin feels clammy and cool as panic sets in you and you try to crawl away from him. He’s of course too fast for you to escape and he pulls you back to where his dick is at your pursed lips. You shake your head no..that you are spent and that soreness is creeping up fast. “MMuum muum” you hum in protest. He just laughs at you like you are a dumb child mumbling nonsense. He taps his dick against your moist cheek. “Open up gorgeous. Struggling is only gonna make your throat hurt more”. You let out a small sob as you open your mouth and he pushes himself in again, your throat feeling like it misses his presence even though you want to stop and get on the first bus home. You feel conflicted, because you are soaked beyond belief at this test of skills, but you are scared that this is the beginning and you can’t even imagine what he’ll put you through the rest of the 48 hours here. There is less gagging this time but you still can’t get to his base. Shame vibrates at your inability. At this point Chris’s head is tilted back with his mouth agape. Strangled moans come from him and you try one last ditch effort to take his whole dick to only be met with the water from earlier almost spilling from your esophagus. You catch you body’s reaction and swallow. Chris smiles proudly at that. 

“Good girl. You got some moxie. We’ll try more later. Don’t worry”. 

He pulls you from your kneeling position and uses his fully body mass to push back onto the bed. He wants you to know he can easily manhandle you if you tried to fight the impending end of you at the hands of his dick. As your already spent body plops back on the mattress, he takes your ankles in his hands in pushes into your more than aroused pussy without any warning or slowness for you to adjust. He finds some resistance from your tightness. You whine at his cock’s brutal intrusion. You place your hand on his stomach trying to slow him down, but he jerks it away. A pout appears on your face at his inconsiderate treatment of your pussy and you whimper, “please”.

“Please? But isn’t this what you wanted so badly? Didn’t you tell me you were ready for me to fuck you? Don’t cry now.” 

You try and close your legs but he easily holds you open like the spine of a book that he can’t wait explore. You sob, your chest heaving as he pushes his full length in, the stretch causing you to burn, but your pussy still envelopes him. “I know. Almost in”, he says condescendingly like he actually cares that he’s causing you pain and pleasure with his cock, making your skin crawl in disgust and euphoria. He lets out a groan as his balls hit the outside of your entrance. He’s completely sheathed inside you. You have no time to even process him before he begins to rut in you like the sex crazed bully he was. Your head almost hits his headboard before he sets a pillow between you and the wooden frame. How considerate. His mouth is open as he hits the spongy bits inside you. Through gritted teeth, you try to stop your cries. You try to grin and bear the burn that even your flowing juices won’t soothe. While your pussy is being re-ignited at his every powerful thrust, the rest of your body seems cool from the cracked open window in his room. The mix of temperatures on your body stirs something inside you again. You feel light headed. Warmth from your pussy begins to spread throughout and begins to wrap around you like a warm, weighted blanket. The beginning of an orgasm, that you weren’t quite sure you had ever experienced. You begin to shake and that drives Chris to fuck you faster and harder.

“Your pussy feels so good cupcake. I knew it. I knew you’d swallow my cock whole. You’re such a cockslut”. 

You are full on crying like a toddler lost in the grocery store who can’t comprehend the overwhelming emotion of the situation. Snotty nose and all. You look around the room to evade his sick and entertained gaze. You manage to see pictures of him with his family. You wonder if his siblings or his poor ma knows he’s tearing your poor pussy apart at this point. When he sends you those disgusting videos at night or talks all dirty to you, do their eyes judge him and make him feel ashamed for his behavior? You look back at him and see the St. Catherine necklace dangle from his neck. The blur and haze of your eyes make you feel some kind of kin to her. You wonder if when she fasted and experienced ecstatic visions to declare her love for Christ, did it feel like you at this point succumbing to his cock hitting all the right and wrong spots inside you. Was Chris’s cock the bridge to God and your soul like the holy Catherine declared Christ? At this point Chris’s face, red and angry, makes you feel like he is the devil and with your body feeling completely hot, you are sure he is about to drag you to the depths of hell with him and you won’t dare stop him. 

You feel pressure release inside your snatch and liquid escape you along with a mangled scream as your orgasm is ripped out of you. You head and neck are stiff and achy as Chris continues to pump in and out of you as the last droplets of ejaculation come out of you. You jolt so much that Chris holds you in place while he chases his on release, kissing you hard on the mouth. He pulls out of you, almost knocking the wind out of you and straddles your chest. Hot ropes of cum paint your face, almost drowning you from its shear amount. As the last drop spills on your chin, Chris takes his thumb swipes his release into your mouth as you took in air. He tastes a little bitter. A little sweet like citrus. You swipe your tongue around your mouth to capture more of him in the midst of your coming down. Chris crawls off you and goes to the bathroom and gets a warm rag. Before cleaning you up he takes a quick pic with his phone’s camera. 

“You look so good like this, cupcake. All cute with icing”. 

You laugh, but not because you find it funny but because you’ve been fucked silly and not thinking coherently. After Chris cleans your face, he pulls you in his arms and holds you against his large chest. Your breathing slows to match his and you finally manage to think straight. There is a dull ache in your pussy. It occurs to you that you weren’t even able to suggest condoms and you let this white boy from tinder fuck you raw, even if he came on your face. You try not to think too much about what this means for the rest of the week. Those gold wrapped squares in your bag probably won’t get any use. After a while, the silence is too deafening for Chris. 

“You like pizza?”, he asks as he kisses your neck, pulling you closer to him trying to somehow bring a sense of romance after fucking the dog shit out of you like a maniac. 

“Pepperoni please”, is all you can reply.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to expand more on the weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious consent, rough sex, dirty talk, public sex

Chris gets up and orders the pizza. He paces back and forth in the bedroom as you lie haggard and disheveled. He wears a smug smile on his face, knowing your present disposition is at his doing. He even tries to be cute and mouths a kiss at you while on the phone. You try to side eye him back to the depths of hell from which he crawled from because fuck him for real. You think “don’t try to be cute now you, mother fucker”. But inside you’re trying to hide this big smile. He is so cute even when you try to be mad at him.   
He completes the order and turns back to you, offering a hand. You just look at him, all strange. 

He says, “ I’m gonna shower. You can stay there and lay in that large wet spot you made or you can join me. Your choice”

You give the biggest stank face at his remark. “The mess I made? It was your fault!”, but you get up to join him anyway. He has to half carry you there because your legs are dead to the fucking world. In the shower, he’s nicer and rinses you off and gets the cum out your hair. You two make out a little. Refreshed a bit but still feeling like a dirty whore, the pizza comes and you eat in silence. You’re not sure what to say to him after that. He feeds you a pepperoni. You stare at him as you chew and he just smiles at you. You begin to relax around him and he pulls you close and you two watch a bad horror movie on Netflix. Obviously exhausted from the bus ride and insulin drop and nothing to do with the ravenous fucking you just experienced, you fall asleep in his arms. They are big and warm, feeling like firm pillows. 

You dream of clouds and nice things until you’re awaken by him between your legs lapping up your sweet pussy. You groan at the sight of him, burying your hands in his hair. Trying not to grip too tightly but it feels so fucking good you can’t stop yourself. He moans in your pussy, the vibrations producing the perfect sensation on your cunt.You squeeze your thick thighs around his head. A little revenge. Thinking you could take him out right then and there, but you don’t and enjoy random head until it occurs to you that this means he’s trying to fuck you again and you get scared. It’s been less than 6 hours since the last major dicking you got. You’re still sore. You can’t even imagine how you could take him again that night.   
Despite all your worries, you cum twice from the impromptu head on the couch. He plays in your juices, pressing your thighs together and slipping his dick in the wet right crease between your legs.

“Get up”, he commands and with your pussy leading you, you don’t miss a beat

You two head to the bedroom once more. You hesitate getting on the now stripped bed. It has a plastic mattress cover on it you didn’t notice before.  
He snorts. 

“You squirters are no joke”. 

When he dicks you down this time it’s slower, deeper like he’s trying to stamp your cervix with his family crest. Like he’s trying to wife you and keep you forever. His back becomes your personal scratching post. He has to hold you by your wrists. He can tell you’re taking your brattiness out on him. Somewhere between your grunts and utter incoherent yelps, you ask about condoms. And he just gives you a look like you’re speaking an alien language and you should just never mutter that combination of words to him again.  
It feels too intimate for a single weekend when he’s looking into your eyes while he fucks you into the mattress. You look at his darkened eyes like you want him to fuck you open and burrow inside you and become one. Who knew missionary could feel so exciting and raunchy. You’re almost coming when he joins your wrists in one of his hands and brings the other one to your throat and tells you “don’t come yet Cupcake, Daddy’s almost there babygirl”. 

You look like a love struck teenage girl after she loses her virginity and to be honest, it hurt less and was less intense when you did 10 years ago. This is sex ….. well fucking you had never had the dis/pleasure of having before. So uncivilized and surly that no amount of showers or hail Marys will save you from damnation. Damnation being addicted to the twisted pleasure this unassuming Boston boy was giving you.He looks like the beast that wants to eat you alive when you give him that look. It makes his cock harder than he’s ever been. Now, he is already close but when you give that little wanton cockslut smile, he almost comes then and there. He finally gives you the okay to come and you both see white.   
Your soul jumps back into your body and you can feel his seed splatter inside you. Coating your cervix. Baptizing you. You clench around him, wanting every lost drop inside you like the cum hungry slut you’ve become in the past 12 hours. 

This man turns you inside out and upside down. Brought you to Christ and returned you to Earth then sent you to Hell and back. He is everything and little did you know, he thinks the same of you. He had no idea what he was getting into when he invited you to his place but you have him wanting to take you and all of your things and move you to a two story house with a white picket fence. Get you a couple of puppies before he dumps more of his cum in your pussy and has you swollen with his children.  
Four or five at the least. He’s Italian and Irish. He wants to come home to you, in the spring time and find you hanging up laundry in the yard on the clothes line. He wants to rub your belly and rub your swollen feet and you bring him a beer. All the works.You wrap your legs around his taunt waist, wanting him to stay inside you longer. He obliges, happy to know you’ve lost your senses and given into lust. His cock feels like it belongs inside you. You groan when it softens and slips out of your wanting greedy cunt. 

Saturday morning you’re awaken to the his hard dick brushed up against your ass and kisses on your neck.

“Good morning cupcake”.

You are sopping wet because all you dreamt about was him stretching you to the ends of the earth and back with his dick.

“So what position works best for you? We gotta start early since you leave tomorrow. Gotta train your throat while I have you here”, he says so matter-of-factly like it’s a regular couple routine.

You like to pretend that the droopy look in your eyes is because you just woken up but you know you are already giving that dopey lovesick look again. You tell him you want him just like this, on your sides basking in the morning post-sex glow. He kisses your neck just behind the ear before he lifts your leg up to curve around his hip. He slips inside you, just the head at first to enjoy the little noises you make when he pushes his cock flush inside. His hand finds a home on your lower belly and yours meets it there, clutching his hand in yours when his rhythm picks up. You lay your head on his bicep. Soreness of yesterday still in your bones, but you’re getting used to him. He fits you like a glove. Like a lock and key. Your leg shakes signaling your first orgasm of the day. He’s pinching your nipples as you ride through the wave.He slowly pulls out of you and stands by the side of the bed. He enjoys watching you recover and fully wake up. Then he beckons you on your knees. You willfully go, excited this time to take him into your mouth and test your skills.He raises his brow and you instinctively open your mouth like a trained pup. He gently glides himself in your mouth, settling on your tongue. You taste the deepest parts of yourself. You grab the base of his cock, sucking on his head. You take more and more in your mouth.

"Relax your throat and open up your throat. If you panic you’re gonna gag”, he instructs. 

You hum around his cock head in agreement and grin shortly at the shiver that crawled up his legs and spine. You take his cock deeper down your throat than you could’ve just the night before and moan around it as his precum glitters your tongue. You feel like such a good girl. As you are almost near the base of his dick.You rock on knees. He reaches down and grabs a handful of your ass.

“You’re doing so good. My star pupil” he moans in delight.

You wanna giggle but you settle for a short moan before he brings his big hands down hard on your ass, slapping both cheeks. You gag around his cock, completely unprepared for the slaps and he grunts above you, loving how your throat constricts around him. You take your mouth off of him to catch your breath. A thick rope of saliva attaching your lips to his dick head. Rubbing your eyes from a stray tear, you take him in your mouth again without being prompted. He’s a goner for sure. He cums down your throat and you happily swallow it.

As a treat, he takes you to a diner for breakfast. He orders tea for you, saying it’ll help soothe your throat. How fucking considerate of him. He silently admires your beauty. He has a hard time imagining you’re real.You catch him staring at you and you roll your eyes for a second before settling back on his pretty blue eyes. 

“What are you looking at, Christopher?” 

“My little slut"

“Urgh.” He’s such a tool

“You think I’m mean don’t you?”, he asks.

“Yes. You’re an asshole”, you say without a beat. 

“Smart girl. I am. An absolute asshole but you love it.”

“And what if I do Christopher?”

“Then I’ll be your asshole… if you’ll have me?”

“I’ll think about it”

He flicks his tongue between his teeth and upper lip, making a sucking sound as he glances away and looks back at you, licking his lips. He nods, not expecting to be turned down after the past 24 hours you two have experienced. But you can tell by the look on his face that he loves a good challenge.

“You think I’d make it that easy for you after you nearly fucked my pussy out the frame? Please Christopher. I’m a slut but I have respect for myself. Anyhow, pay the tab and let’s go to the movies”. 

He’s taken back at your sass. He likes the attitude on you. It gives him more motivation to fuck you until you pass out. His eyebrow’s arch looking you in your eyes. Without a word he signals the server and they bring over the check. He pays, tipping nearly 50% before leading you out with an arm around your waist. You brought dresses to wear all weekend, you figure it make things easier and you are an easy gal. He takes it a step further and tells you to forgo panties the rest of the weekend. The movie goes exactly how you imagine it would with him. His lithe fingers find their way under your skirt and have their way with your pussy. You can’t even remember if the movie is a comedy or drama. You try to focus or at least not bring attention to how you clench around his not two but four fingers exploring your insides. One of your arms is wrapped around his bicep, anchoring you from jumping out your seat. The other holds his wrist as he pumps in and out your pussy. You mouth is stuck open like a panting dog and like the real jerk he is, he tosses a piece of popcorn in your mouth, almost causing you to choke. 

As other moviegoers exit the auditorium, he directs you to clean up the mess you make. He reasons its not fair for some poor teenager to have to stumble upon the puddle you left after his ministrations. As you are bent down, wiping up your juices, he runs a finger up your bare thigh. He ties his hoodie around your waist in order to cover up the damp part of your skirt. He is skilled at going from ass to gentleman in .01 seconds. In the parking lot, he pulls you into his lap for a quick bj. You are paranoid that passerbys will see your indecent activity or worse a cop. He’s too busy stuffing his cock in your mouth to care. He’s of course worried about safety and doesn’t turn it to road head. He periodically slaps your luscious ass and jiggles it. When he shoots off in your mouth and you instinctively swallow, and you give him a nasty, sloppy kiss full of tongue that he gladly accepts. 

On the way back to his place, you try to remember if you’ve ever had this much sex in this short amount of time. The ache in your pussy says no and the way you find everything he does irresistible makes you realize you’ve never been this sexually satisfied from other online hookups or even boyfriends. You half expect him to throw you on the bed once you cross the threshold of his apartment unit, but instead he’s wrapped up in his phone. He then receives a phone call. A buddy of his begs him to come out to some townie pub to catch the game. To your surprise he asks if you want to go. Intrigued, you accept his offer, even if you no nothing about baseball. 

You two arrive at 7pm, just as the game begins. His friends welcome him with hoots and hollers, tumblers full of well beer raised in their hands. He gives them an enthusiastically “Ayyyee”, as you shuffle in behind him. Out of all the socially taboo things you’ve done with him this weekend, meeting his friends is the most uncomfortable you’ve been. It also doesn’t escape you that you look like a debutante black barbie compared to everyone in jeans and baseball jerseys. They welcome you with a bit of uncertainty in their handshakes. You and one of his friends are the 1.5 Black people in the whole establishment. Typical Irish pub in Boston. You start to wonder if this is a matter of convenience to bring you along or he actually wants you to meet his friend group. Something in your stomach flutters at the later option. 

The sports announcer says it’s the bottom of the third and all bases are loaded. He explains to you that means that the teammates of the person up to bat are on the first, second, and third bases. He’s intimately and physically close to you at this moment. His beard against your cheek dizzies you. You’d call it romantic if his drunk buddies didn’t interrupt the moment. Boston hits a home run against the Giants and the pub erupts in cheers. While everyone is distracted, you lick then bite the tip of his ear. He stares at you for a moment, lips tugging in an almost smile. That’s all the reaction you get before he gets up and gets another beer. His friends ask how long you two have known each other. You both answer a month at the same time. Relationships starting from tinder aren’t weird these days. In fact, they are impressed he finally “caught” one after the series of bad dates his friends say he’s experienced. You giggle at the idea he’s had bad dates and it’s not just women running away when they find out how sex-crazed he is. The night goes off without a hitch and his friends think you two look cute together. That makes you also giggle eternally and feel some other type of emotion you;re afraid to place this early. He’s spent the whole time looking at you with the soft eyes you saw at the diner and the first hour or so you met. They make you feel warm inside. 

Back at his apartment, the tides turn. Maybe it was your mischievous little hands playing with his crotch while at the bar or the ear thing. Maybe its your left-hand curve you threw at him when you didn’t yes to him at the diner earlier. Whatever it is that has him riled up is going to have him sucker punching you in the cervix with his dick.   
He rips off your dress, garnering a “hey” from you in protest. You doubt he hears anything with the way he foams at the mouth. That sweetness you experienced early that morning is gone and he doesn’t even check to see how lubricated you are before he pushes himself into you. While he’s balls deep inside you, he whispers the nastiest things in your ear as he pounds you erratically like a madman. Nasty things that would have your mother wash your mouth out with soap. Nasty things that only wayward girls without fathers at home would like. Yet the sound of your pussy squelching tells you that your two parent home failed some dark part of you.

The grunts and growls he makes causes his voice to become gravely and deep. He sounds like one of those men who wear trench coats and expose themselves to strangers at parks. Filthy and deplorable just like you like it.The blues of his eyes are gone and in one quick motion he flips you until you’re on your hands and knees. This position has him going deeper inside you, hitting parts of you only your gyno has seen. You whimper small ow ow ow noises like a cat in heat. You tell him it hurts.

“It’s supposed to hurt, cupcake”, he says in that mocking voice you hate and love.

You bury your face in the pillow trying to quiet your whines but he grabs you in a headlock and pulls you up until your back is aligned with his chest. You cry out and you can hear a satisfied groan from him.

“Keep crying cupcake, it makes my dick hard”, he chides as he licks the side of your face tasting your flowing tears. At this point his forearm around your neck is the only thing holding up your weight.

You hear a slur of insults before utterly breaking down against him. The weird howls that spill from your mouth are indistinguishable from someone being murdered you think. And his dick is so far up you that your own ejaculation comes down only in trickles.Him yelling “oh fucking fuck” is the last thing you hear before everything goes black. You wake up eyes glued together from sleepiness and your body feels like it’s been deflated and emptied out.The sheets on the bed have been changed and you smell coffee from a distance. You try to roll over to look at the clock on your phone but it feels like a ton of bricks are on top of you. Just when you are about to call for your torturer to help you up, he arrives on time.

“Morning cupcake. I made us some coffee.”

He’s cheery and bright eyed like he’s had the best sleep ever. You wince as you sit up in the bed and use the last two brain cells he didn’t fuck out of you to grab the mug with a picture of Barack Obama on it. The dumb joke isn’t lost on you. He joins you the bed and looks over at you, All cocky and self assured that he’s ruined you for any other man and honestly your life. You take a sip, the warm liquid soothing to your throat. You want to say something witty but 1. You’re pretty sure your voice is gone and 2. He seems all too energized to fuck another year off your life. So you drink coffee in silence.

“I ordered breakfast sandwiches. They should be here any minute. You woke up just in time, cupcake.”

He jossles your hair, as if that matters since its matted and sweated out. You finally muster the confidence to look him in his eyes to let him know you hate him with all your being. He just bursts out in laughter at your glare and pout.

“Oh cupcake. You’re a riot. I’ve had a lot of fun with you”, he says pinching your cheek.

“You’re lucky you’re white and I’m too tired or I’d kill you right now”. 

Your face is stone serious. His brows rise as if he is waiting for you to do it. Waiting for you to muster up the nerve to even lay a finger on him. You relax and lay your head on his shoulder and he kisses your forehead. The morning is uneventful. You two eat in bed and he runs you a bath that you surely need. You talk about any and all things. How his mom wants him to visit soon and how your sister is dating a dude with a face tattoo.

Then it’s time. Something both of you have been dreading. You pack up your things and give the bedroom one last look for any of your belongings. You waddle out his door as he locks it. The car ride is filled with distracting conversations. Yet what needs to be said is absent from your lips.  
The greyhound sign appears in eye view. You sigh loud enough for him to hear above the radio. He holds your hand as he pulls into the drop off parking lot. You both sit there for a moment. You huff and break the silence.

“Yes”, you say irritated.

His face twists in confusion. He waits for you to clarify.

“Yes, you can be my asshole”, you finish.

He smiles and turns your head ever so gently to kiss your lips. The kiss lingers and you smile while still attached to his lips.

“So I’m free weekend after next. I got you a ticket”, he mentions.

Your eyes widen.

“How do you know if I’m free and how did you know I would say yes?” You ask out of pure stubbornness. You know the answer but you’re annoyed at his cockiness.

“After I fucked you and you passed out, you kept moaning my name in your sleep. I think that’s a pretty good indicator.”

You roll your eyes so hard that you give yourself a headache. You two kiss once more outside the car and he squeezes your ass. You stare all lovelorn at each other. You begin to walk away until he calls your name.

“Hey cupcake, I’ll probably call you around 2am tonight.”

“Counting on it”.


End file.
